


i felt something that couldn't exist

by hanyolo



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s02e03 Willie Pete, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanyolo/pseuds/hanyolo
Summary: “I went on a date with Nina Howard last night.” The words are out before he can stop himself.MacKenzie frowns, a sad sort of frown that makes him feel like a terrible person.“Okay...”“She thinks I’m still in love with you.”// or the one where will never dated nina because honestly what was he thinking? who let that happen?now with asurprise!second chapter! 😮
Relationships: Will McAvoy/MacKenzie McHale
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> not me writing another fic about the voicemail. but honestly what was Sorkin's reason for writing it if not to inspire fanfic writers all over the world? I mean, the possibilities are _literally_ endless.
> 
> anyway this was inspired by my opinion that will dating nina is the worst thing that's ever happened in the history of television and, as always, by what would have happened if these idiots (one idiot, really) just admitted they were in love already. 
> 
> so thanks for reading and I hope u enjoy! any feedback much appreciated💕

Nina calls him after the broadcast ends, asks him if his offer for dinner still stands. Glancing across the bullpen, where Mac is talking to Jerry Dantana, a frown on her face and her hands on her hips, Will swallows down the feeling of longing and want, heads into his office. Figures he should at least try to move on, something he won’t be able to do if he goes home every night to get drunk and sit by the phone. 

“Sure,” he says down the phone. “Italian okay?”

.

It’s a nice enough night. He takes her to a little Italian restaurant three blocks from the AWM building; it’s nice without being too fancy, small but not too intimate. And if he’s being honest, he only chose it because they do the best Fettuccine Alfredo he’s ever had. He’s not surprised that he’s enjoying Nina’s company - he is the one who asked her out, after all, and just when he’s starting to wonder if this might actually lead somewhere, his phone beeps. 

Apologising, Will fishes it out his pocket. 

Nina shrugs him off, goes back to perusing the dessert menu. She says something about sharing the tiramisu, but Will can only seem to focus on his phone, on MacKenzie’s name on the screen.  
It’s not unusual for her to be texting him at this time; they’ve spent many nights talking on the phone until the early hours of the morning. At least three times she’s fallen asleep with the phone up to her ear and he listened to her soft, even breaths, only hanging up when he could no longer bear the pain in his chest. 

She’s sent him a picture. The picture is of a large glass of wine in her hand, but all he can focus on is her legs stretched out on the sofa in front of her, pyjama shorts stopping at her thigh, her legs lean and smooth right down to the thick slipper socks she is wearing. He feels something tug in his chest, then he reads the caption she has sent. 

_Terrible day = lots of wine_ , followed by a series of emojis that he’s certain neither of them understand. Then she sends a second message. 

_Hope your day was better than mine x_

And he feels terrible, because he knows what he has to do. 

Will slips his phone into his pocket, drains the rest of his wine before turning back to Nina, who has been watching him already. She seems to know what’s happening, judging by the look of understanding on her face. 

“Nina,” Will begins, not really sure where he’s going with this, only sure of where he wants to be. “I’m really sorry. This isn’t -, I don’t know. I’m sorry-“

“Will,” she cuts him off, smiles sadly. “I should’ve expected this. I’m the one who asked you to dinner knowing you’re in love with someone else.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, because that’s all that makes sense to him right now and he’s past denying his feelings for MacKenzie. 

Nina leans forward to place her hand over his, squeezes gently. “I’m not going to make you stay and finish this date.” She laughs, “that would be tragic. But I will take the tiramisu to go.”

Will pays the bill, apologising to Nina over and over, doesn’t even bother to put on his jacket as he rushes out the restaurant. He marches down two blocks on autopilot before he thinks to hail a cab, but when the driver asks for an address he freezes and, after a moment of confused, awkward silence, gives his own address instead. Figures Mac deserves more than him turning up at her door unexpectedly, deserves more than him trying to win her back mere minutes after leaving another woman in a restaurant. 

.

Despite getting almost no sleep, Will manages to come into the office a full two hours before the first pitch meeting, earlier than he ever has in his entire career. He hasn’t quite decided what he’s going to say to Mac despite thinking of literally nothing else for the past twelve hours but he’s certain (hopeful) it will come to him in the moment. 

Of course, then he actually sees her. 

She’s standing in front of Neal’s desk, doing an impression of — he has no way of knowing who or what MacKenzie is trying to be right now, but Neal snorts with laughter and Maggie is giggling through her hands as Mac moves her arms in what Will thinks is a robotic fashion, despite the voice she is putting on sounding like that of an eighty year old chainsmoker. 

Will watches her for a moment, is vaguely aware of the goofy expression on his face. 

Mac’s face splits into a grin when she notices him and she says something to Neal and Maggie before crossing the room and stopping in front of him. 

“Early worm catches the worm,” she says, no doubt referring to his early arrival. 

“Early bird,” he corrects fondly, not bothering to hide his own smile, especially when Mac frowns at him and opens her mouth, clearly ready to argue. But Will can’t put this off, is no longer able to ignore the warmth that blossoms in his chest every time he looks at her. 

“I went on a date with Nina Howard last night.” The words are out before he can stop himself. Before he has even managed to string the words together in his head, has absolutely no idea what to say next. 

MacKenzie frowns, a sad sort of frown that makes him feel like a terrible person, worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she turns away from him slightly, arms folded across her chest. 

“Okay...”

Will is very much aware of Neal and Maggie watching them, both wearing matching looks of surprise. But he only cares about the look of hurt on Mac’s face, and his mind is running a million miles an hour, desperately trying to come up with a way to fix this. 

(He isn’t quite sure when seeing MacKenzie hurting like this once again became something he can’t stand, only that once upon a time, he would have done anything to make her feel better.)

“She thinks I’m still in love with you.”

And, okay, maybe he hasn’t really thought this through, and maybe he can see Neal out of the corner of his eyes, watching them with wide eyes and a delighted grin. But MacKenzie lets her arms drop, her face softening slightly as she looks up at him and he realises he wouldn’t care if the rest of the staff were there too. 

“Let’s not do this here.”

So he follows her to her office, has to stop himself for reaching for her as he yammers on about Nina and their dinner and the voicemail.

MacKenzie stops then, three feet from her office, and Will walks into her, finds himself reaching for her to steady himself. His hand is still resting on her hip when she turns to look up at him, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed.

“I know what the voicemail says,” she tells him with a frown and a half shrug. She drops her gaze to his chest as she says, “Nina told me.”

“Wait - what?” Will’s hand falls to his side and he takes a step back. His mouth feels dry and his heart feels like it might beat out of his chest all of a sudden. Because she knows. MacKenzie knows that he’s still in love with her and she hasn’t said anything. Has ignored it just like he asked her to if she didn’t feel the same. Fuck. 

She’s still talking, he realises, hands gesturing wildly as she explains. So he tries to focus on that rather than the blood rushing in his ears. 

“I phoned her last night,” MacKenzie says quietly, frown lines etched between her brows. She lets out a huff of sarcastic, self-deprecating laughter. “Obviously I didn’t realise she would be with you. But yeah. I asked her what the voicemail said and she told me. God forbid you give me a compliment every once in a while.”

Will lets out a low sigh as he processes what she has told him, can’t quite decide if Mac is only focusing on one part of the message on purpose, or if Nina deliberately left out the part where he confesses his love. Knowing both women, he figures it’s most likely the latter. 

“Mac, that’s not-“

“Look, Will,” she cuts him off with a smile that ends up looking like more of a grimace. “I have a lot of work to get through. I’ll see you at the rundown.”

And just like that she’s in her office, door closed behind her. Maggie and Neal at least have the decency to pretend they weren’t watching their entire exchange when he turns to go to his own office. 

.

The rest of the day passes in stilted silences and longing glances, interspersed with moments where he feels like he’s going to tell her what the voicemail said. And then he just doesn’t, and he’s left wondering if he’s ever going to be able to get his shit together or if he’s still the fucked up kid who couldn’t open up to anyone, couldn’t trust them, couldn’t love them. Until Mac that is. 

It takes the duration of the A and B blocks for Will to build up the courage to say something, no longer able to stand the tension that he can somehow _feel_ through his earpiece. 

“Hey, Mac,” he begins, voice wavering slightly. Not quite sure if the fact he can’t see her will spur him on or not. 

“Yes, Will?” Her voice in his ear is soft, comforting and he feels a surge of confidence. 

“Am I going to the room?”

He hears a click, then: “Not anymore.”

“Okay. I’ve been trying to talk to you all day, but I don’t - shit. Okay.” He reaches up to run his hand through his hair, stops himself at the last second. The last thing he needs right now is to piss off MacKenzie (and hair and make-up; he’s not entirely sure which he’s more scared of). “Did Nina tell you the rest of the voicemail?”

“You mean when you say we got Obama?” He can hear the confusion in her voice, is beginning to think he should’ve just asked her to come into the studio for this. “Two-thirty back.”

Okay. That’s not a lot of time. 

“Nina Howard thinks I’m still in love with you.” He repeats his words from earlier, only more rushed and frantic. “And I left her alone in a restaurant in the middle of a date because she’s right.”

“Will,” Mac draws out his name, and he can’t quite tell if she’s confused, angry or just plain bewildered. “What the _fuck_ is happening right now?”

Okay, he admits to himself. Maybe during a commercial break where he can’t actually see her face was not the best time to have this conversation. But now he’s started, there’s no going back.  
“This would be easier if I could see you. I mean, I - are you sure I’m only going to you?”

“Yes. And you have sixty seconds so please get to the point.”

“Okay.” He’s nervous now, his hands are sweaty and there’s a ball of anxiety in his stomach and he wishes, more than anything, that he could see her face. “I’ve been an idiot. I thought if I ignored how I felt it would just go away. Turns out it doesn’t work like that. I put so much effort into _trying_ to be angry at you that it took me a long time to admit to myself that I’m not. At least, not anymore. And it took me even longer to admit that I’m still in love with you —"

But he doesn’t get a chance to finish, or even hear her response, because then she’s counting down, sounding somewhat dazed, and the prompter starts rolling. 

By some miracle, they make it to the next commercial break, Will only misreading the prompter twice, Mac’s lighthearted teasing in his ear even more distracting than usual. But he gets to the end of the block, has no idea what he’s just reported. Hasn’t been able to stop thinking about MacKenzie, is desperate to see her, to ask her - well, he’s not sure what he’ll say to her when he does see her. But he has to say something, has to know what she thinks. Doesn’t think he could wait until the end of the show to continue this conversation. 

“Uh, Mac,” Will begins hesitantly, waits to see if she’ll take pity on him and speak first. Apparently not. “How long have I got?”

He can hear her sigh through his earpiece, then:

“Three minutes.”

“Okay. Hang on.”

And then he’s out his seat, ignoring MacKenzie’s protests in his ear as he strides across the studio to the door leading to the control room. 

She meets him in the hallway, a look on her face that tells him she will kill him if he’s not back in his seat in time, declaration of love be damned. But she waits for him all the same. 

“So,” she prompts when it becomes clear he isn’t going to say anything, leaning against the wall, arms folded across her chest. Trying to look nonchalant, he thinks, but the way she worries her bottom lip between her teeth gives her away. 

“So...” And it feels unfair to wait for her to speak when he’s the one that decided to declare his love for her during a goddamn commercial break. But the longer she looks up at him, head tilted, eyes narrowed, the more terrified he is she’ll reject him. 

“You love me,” she says plainly, but he knows her well enough to recognise the hint of uncertainty in her voice, the question in her eyes. 

“I do,” he says, voice firm and sure. Then, with an almost sheepish shrug, adds, “Never stopped.”

MacKenzie pushes herself off the wall, air of nonchalance gone as she frowns up at him, throws her hands up in frustration. 

“Will, I really don’t—“

“Come to dinner with me,” he interrupts softly. Will takes a step towards her, subconsciously reaches for her hand. Pulls back at the last second when she steps back, frown deepening. 

“Less than twenty-four hours ago you were on a date with Nina Howard. What’s changed?”

What’s changed, he thinks, is that he spent three years trying to construct this image of MacKenzie as cold and cruel and undeserving of his love, only to be faced with her once more and realise how impossible this was. That she could never be anything but kind, sincere, compassionate. That she’s still the same MacKenzie that woke him up in the middle night to tell him she loved him for the first time, a soft smile on her face as she gently combed her fingers through his hair. The same MacKenzie that pushed him to be better and braver and fight for what was right. The same MacKenzie who he thought he would spend the rest of his life with. 

(Maybe with more scars and sharper edges, but she never hid from any of his flaws, so why should he run from this part of her?) 

He doesn’t say this, however. Doesn’t bring up their past or Brian or any of that bullshit. None of that matters anymore. Hasn’t for a long time. 

“We were happy, weren’t we?” Will asks instead, almost frantic as he suddenly realises that he’s running out of time, that the countdown to being back on air is now being given in seconds rather than minutes. Ninety seconds, he can do this. He doesn’t give her a chance to answer. “You sent me that picture last night. You had your wine glass and you were wearing those stupid slipper socks, the ones I used to tease you about, and — we were _happy_. And in love.” He shrugs his shoulders, lets out a deep sigh as he reaches for her, presses his hand to hers. She doesn't pull away this time, lets him take her hand. “Why can’t we have that again?”

Mac’s expression changes into the one she usually wears when she’s annoyed with him. But she hasn’t pulled away from him, if anything, she’s leaning into his space, their fingers still tangled together. 

All too late, he realises this doesn’t mean she isn’t still mad. 

“Are you an idiot?” She cries, lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Do you listen to a word I say? In three years I haven’t stopped loving you and you think _I’m_ the reason we’re not together right now? I’ve been here since day one - asking for forgiveness, trying to show you how much I love you, how sorry I am.” Her voice softens as she steps even closer, brings her hands up to frame his face. “I’ve been waiting for _you_ , Billy.”

Will’s breath catches in his throat as he maps her face with his eyes; her eyes, her lips, the curve of her neck. He thinks back to conversations they’ve had in his office, at Hang Chew’s, over the phone in the early hours of the morning. She’s rarely held anything back from him, hasn’t once shied away from telling him how she feels. 

She’s been there. And he’s been an idiot. 

“Come to dinner with me,” he repeats. He says it like a statement, but his eyes are pleading, voice thick with emotion as he leans into her touch. 

Mac’s smiling at him now and he thinks he’s just about to do something crazy, like kiss her, when Tess sticks her head out the control room to give them a thirty second warning. 

“Shit.” Mac pulls away, eyes wide and face panicked in a way that would make him laugh if he could focus on anything other than how good it felt, how _right_ it felt to be so close to her once more, to be able to open up to her and just tell the goddamn truth. 

“Mac, wait —” But she’s behind him, literally pushing him towards the studio and saying _go, go, go_ in a voice that is so frantic he has no choice but to obey, makes it back to his seat with seconds to spare. 

.

Will doesn’t think he’s ever realised just how used he is to hearing MacKenzie’s voice in his ear until now. She’s quiet for the rest of the broadcast, only talking to him when necessary, doesn’t make any of her usual comments or quips. Doesn’t even say anything when he accidentally skips a line on the prompter and has to go back. And he misses it, misses _her_ , thinks he would be a fool to let her get away a second time. 

He lingers in the studio after the show ends, only heading to his office when it becomes clear that MacKenzie isn’t planning to continue their conversation from the control room. He’s not surprised to find her waiting for him, but that doesn’t stop the sudden nervousness he feels as he enters the room, lets the door close behind him. 

Mac, legs crossed at the ankles as she leans against his desk, watches him with a thoughtful look on her face. Will, all too aware that anything he tries to say right now is probably going to be a jumbled, stammering string of incoherence, waits for her to speak. 

“You can take me to dinner,” she says after a moment, pushing herself off the desk and walking towards him, mouth turning up at the sides. “But you should know I’m very high maintenance.”

“I think I can handle that,” he smiles, trying to stay cool despite the blush he is certain is covering his cheeks and the way his heart feels like it might burst out of his chest. 

“I hope so,” Mac says with a teasing grin. “Otherwise I might have to skip out before dessert.”

And, yeah, Will deserves that. Figures the least he can do after all the crap he put her through is let her make fun of him for going on a date with Nina Howard, of all people.

But the way she presses her body against his, looks up at him with fluttering eyelashes as she runs one hand along his waist, the other holding him close with his belt loops, makes him think that they’ll both be skipping out on dessert for an entirely different reason. 

(He’s proven right when she spends the entire meal alternating her gaze between his lips, his hands, his chest, her foot gently running up and down his calf underneath the table.)


	2. all of you, all of me (intertwined)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m in love with you,” he says softly. “What’s more romantic than that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I did a thing....
> 
> I’ll begin by saying that I was not expecting the uproar I got at not including a kiss in what was supposed to be this one shot. so I wrote y’all a kiss, and then some. 
> 
> so I have never written or even tried to write anything vaguely close to resembling smut in my life. yet here we are. I will say it’s not majorly explicit. and I’m super nervous about posting this so please be nice. I did my best and isn’t that what counts?
> 
> okay I hope u all like it, thanks for reading!

It isn’t until they’re standing six feet apart in Will’s foyer that Mac realises he hasn’t even kissed her yet. Despite employing her best tactics (flirtatious glances and a bit of light groping; not that she would call what happened in the fifteen minute cab ride light), he still hasn’t kissed her. 

He’s standing on the other side of the room, awkwardly clutching his jacket in his hands, as though he’s not quite sure what to do next. Hasn’t taken his eyes off of her. 

“Do you want a drink?” Will offers after a moment of silence, voice low and unsure.

“Sure,” she says with a shrug, her own coat thrown over her arm as she watches him cross the room to the kitchen. He brushes his hand over her shoulder as he passes and, as the skin on her upper arms breaks out in goosebumps, she realises she doesn’t want a drink after all. 

“Will?” MacKenzie asks quietly. And he stops in the doorway, body half turned towards her. She can see from where she is standing that his shoulders are tense. “Are you —“ she hesitates, shakes her head before starting over. “Come here. Please.”

With a concerned look on his face, Will slowly crosses the room. Stops a couple of feet away from her. 

“I think I’m nervous,” Mac says with a small laugh. “Even though I know I have no reason to be.”

Will lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders dropping as he seems to relax slightly. 

“Me too,” he admits, a sheepish smile on his face. He looks down at her thoughtfully before closing the gap between them, apprehensively reaching for her. Hesitates slightly before tossing his jacket in the direction of the coat stand, brings his hands to settle on her waist.

MacKenzie can feel his touch through every layer of clothing, his hands warm and firm. It fills her with a warmth she’s only ever felt with him, her nerve endings alight, her heart pounding. And all she can think about is that he’s here and he loves her and she’s never going to hurt him again. 

She realises she’s been quiet for too long when Will tries to pull away, a concerned frown on his face. “We don’t have to — It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

Mac lets her coat and purse fall from her arms, giving him a reassuring smile as she reaches up to cup his face. His eyes flutter closed when she traces her thumbs gently along his cheekbones, his hands coming back up to rest on her waist. 

“MacKenzie.”

“I want this,” she assures him softly, pushing up onto her tiptoes to brush her lips against his. “I want you.”

“ _MacKenzie_.” This time her name is more of an exhale and it’s punctuated by him slanting his mouth over hers, hot and desperate and so familiar. 

It’s been years since she last kissed Will McAvoy but it’s exactly like she remembered. From the feel of his body pressed against hers, his calloused fingers pressed against the bare skin of her back where he has untucked her blouse, to the way he nips at her bottom lip, then soothes it with his tongue. Even the vibrations she feels in his chest when she cards her fingers through his hair, tugging gently. 

It’s all Will and it’s intoxicating. 

But it’s not enough. 

“Will,” Mac murmurs, pulling away slightly. Gets distracted when he moves his attention elsewhere, nipping at her jawline, the curve of her neck, the spot above her collarbone that makes her squirm. She says his name again, stepping back this time. 

He frowns at this slightly, absentmindedly reaching for her, and the way his expression immediately changes, eyes widening and jaw dropping, as she slowly starts to unbutton her blouse would be hilarious if she weren’t just as desperate to rid him of his clothes, to feel his body against hers once more, his calloused fingers gently caressing her smooth skin. 

Just the thought of it makes her want to say fuck it and let him have his way with her in his foyer. But it’s also been a tragically long time since the last time they slept together and she’ll be damned if it isn’t going to be meaningful and romantic and _perfect_. 

So, blouse open and hanging off her shoulders, Mac makes her way to the living room, shooting Will a sly grin over her shoulder. Mostly to make sure he is actually following her. But she needn’t have doubted him; he’s right behind her, his hands working frantically on his own buttons, as he watches her with dark, hooded eyes. 

MacKenzie comes to a stop in front of the couch, turns to face him. The way he is looking at her makes her breath catch in her throat and she can’t quite believe that they’re really doing this. That this isn’t another terribly realistic dream that’s going to leave her yearning and aching when she inevitably wakes up. This is real. Will is really standing in front of her, a tender look on his face as he slides his shirt down his arms, his hands moving to his belt buckle. 

“Wait,” she says, and it comes out much more breathy than she intended. 

Will tilts his head, one eyebrow raised, but he stops, watching with curious eyes as she closes the gap between them. 

Mac brings her hands up to rest on his chest, her eyes following her hands as she runs them slowly along the planes of his chest, from his shoulders down to his hips. She can feel the way his stomach muscles twitch as she trails her fingers along the waistband of his trousers, the way his breath hitches as she leans forward to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along his chest and up his neck. She vaguely registers Will pushing her blouse the rest of the way down her arms, but she’s distracted by the way he lets out a soft moan when she tugs at his earlobe with her teeth. 

Will turns his head so he can capture her lips in another kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth as he tangles one hand in her hair, tugging slightly like he knows she likes, the other roughly cupping her breast over her bra, and she can feel him hard against her hip. And it’s still not enough. 

MacKenzie reaches back to unclip her bra at the same time as Will pushes the fabric down to free her breasts. He pulls away and she can’t help but smirk when his eyes are immediately drawn to her chest, an almost awestruck look on his face. It’s nice to know that some things haven’t changed. 

And then he’s palming her breasts and she forgets to tease him. Can only focus on the way he rolls a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, before bending slightly to take the other in his mouth. And Mac can’t hold back the low groan that escapes as she tangles her hand in his hair to keep him where he is. 

“God, Will,” she moans, nails scratching lightly at his scalp. She can feel the heat pooling in her belly, the rush of wetness between her thighs. And she thinks she might quite literally explode if he doesn’t move things along. Or have to take matters into her own hands, but she’d really rather not have to do that. “ _Please._ ”

But then Will stills, pulling away slightly, and she knows he’s discovered her scar, can feel his thumb lightly tracing the skin underneath it. 

“Will?” She questions softly. He shakes his head, leans forward to rest his forehead on her shoulder, moves his hands to rest on her hips. He’s murmuring something but she can’t quite make it out. “Billy?” 

Will raises his head to meet her gaze, eyes full of regret and apology, but she cuts him off with a searing kiss before he can say anything. 

Because she will not let this be another thing that he burdens himself with. Won’t let him feel guilty about something over which he had no control. This is her burden to bear. She’s the own who should be left carrying the weight of her mistakes and regrets. Not him. And the scar is just a physical reminder of how badly she fucked up. 

“It’s okay,” Mac whispers, voice muffled by his lips moving against hers. “I’m okay.”

He kneels in front of her then, and she doesn’t say anything more, can’t even bring herself to comment on the state of his knees, too enamoured by the sight of him looking up at her, cheeks flushed and hair askew. She’s desperate to feel his mouth on her again. 

Will trails his hands slowly up her thighs, stopping when he reaches the hem of her stockings. And Mac can’t stop the shudder that runs through her as he gently rolls down one leg, then the other, his hands ghosting over the apex of her thighs, tickling the soft skin on her inner thighs. He pulls back slightly and she lets out an annoyed huff. Will smirks at this, leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses along the waistband of her skirt. He unzips her skirt and lets it drop the the floor, leaving her in only her underwear. 

“God, Mac,” he says, voice low and gruff as his eyes trail up her body to her face. “You’re so beautiful.”

She shivers in a way that is entirely to do with the way Will is nuzzling his face into the soft skin above the elastic of her underwear. Can’t stop the soft moan that escapes when he removes them, his hands gently following the length of her legs. 

“Billy.” It comes out in a choked gasp and she thinks she would be embarrassed if she could focus on anything other than Will on his knees in front of her, peppering kisses up the inside of her thigh as he gently pushes at her hips until she is sitting in front on him on the sofa, hooks one of her legs over his shoulder. 

And then his mouth is where she needs it most, working with an enthusiasm that has so far been unparalleled in her experience with men, tongue firmly pressing her clit while he slides two fingers into her.

She comes embarrassingly quickly, one hand tugging at his hair as she cries his name with a choked moan, the other clutching at his shoulder as her body arches off the sofa. Will looks entirely too pleased with himself as he grins up at her and, maybe if her entire body wasn’t still humming with pleasure, maybe if she could get her breath back, then she would roll her eyes and call him cocky. But she decides she likes the way he’s looking at her right now far too much to do anything about it. Besides, he definitely has a reason to be feeling cocky just now. She’s just glad that she hadn’t misremembered his skills in that department.

“C’mere,” Mac says lazily from where she is half laying back on the sofa cushions. Will presses one last kiss to her knee before bringing his face level with hers, his body hovering over her. 

She frames his face with her hands, thumbs running along his cheekbones, opens her legs wider to let him settle against her. Has always loved feeling the weight of his body surrounding her. 

“I love you,” she tells him, voice firm and sincere. Will’s lips turn up at he sides, almost involuntary, and if she doesn’t love him even more for it. 

“I love you, too,” he says, nuzzling his nose against hers before kissing her. She loses herself in him once more, the feel of his hands on her body, the way she can taste herself on his lips, the feel of his hips pressing into hers. 

“You still have your pants on,” she says after a moment, pulling away with a frown. “Take them off.”

Will laughs at this, a fond chuckle, as he reaches between them for his belt buckle. They manage to work his pants and underwear down his legs together, only getting slightly distracted when she takes him in her hand, thumb running lightly over his tip as she gently squeezes. 

“Fuck.” Will lets out a low groan, buries his face in her neck. “Are you — do we need —?” He trails off with another groan, hips jerking as Mac continues to stroke him. 

“I’m good if you’re good,” she says, stopping what she is doing to look up at him. 

Will meets her gaze, cheeks flushed and pupils blown, and she doesn’t think she’s ever been more turned on, more desperate for this in her life. 

“I’m good,” he tells her. He waits for her approval, an affirming nod, before positioning himself between her thighs and —

“Wait,” Mac cries suddenly. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth thoughtfully, brows furrowed as she considers the pros and cons of staying on the sofa or moving to the bedroom. 

“What’s wrong?” Will asks, a look of near panic on his face. “Did I hurt you? It’s okay if you don’t want to do this anymore.” 

He goes to move away but she wraps her legs around him to keep him in place. 

“Of course I want this,” she tells him forcefully, squeezing her thighs around his hips as if to prove her point. “I just wanted our second first time to be romantic and in a bed. But I really don’t think I have the energy or the willpower to get up right now.”

“Hmm.” Will holds himself up on one arm, trails his fingers along Mac’s side, around her nipple, right up until he is gently running his thumb along her lower lip. 

“I’m in love with you,” he says softly. “What’s more romantic than that?”

And he’s definitely got a point, Mac thinks. Especially when she can feel how hard he is between her thighs. 

“No, you’re right,” she says, nodding frantically as she trails her feet up and down his calves. “Let’s do this thing.”

“I thought you wanted romance,” Will jokes, placing open-mouthed kisses along her jawline as he teases her folds with his hardness. 

“Billy,” Mac whimpers, followed by a breathy exhale as he sucks at a patch of skin on her neck. “Billy, please

He slides into her slowly and she can’t help but cry out as he fills her up, can feel him breathing harshly in her ear as he adjusts, forehead resting against her temple. She shifts slightly and he lets out a moan, his fingers tightening on her hip. 

“Fuck. MacKenzie,” he breathes, capturing her lips in a clumsy kiss. 

“You good?” She asks gently, feeling a surge of affection in her chest at the way he is trembling above her. 

“I’m good,” he nods. “You?”

“So good” she murmurs, pulling him into a searing kiss as he starts to rock his hips against hers. 

It starts slow and gentle, the two of them exchanging breathy little kisses as they work to find a rhythm. And then Will reaches between them to rub her clit, his other hand palming at her breast as he moves his mouth to the sensitive spot above her collarbone, and it’s almost too much. MacKenzie throws her head back with a loud moan, nails scratching into Will’s back as she frantically bucks her hips up to meet his, heels digging into the backs of his thighs to hold him closer. 

The pressure is building and she’s getting closer, her senses entirely overwhelmed with Will and what he is doing to her. She knows she’s being loud, doesn’t think she could hold back her high-pitched moans even if she wanted to. Can only focus on Will; his hands, his mouth, his cock. All working together to bring her over the edge.

And when she does come, it’s with a choked cry, her eyes squeezed shut as her body curls around Will, her nails digging into his shoulders.

It doesn’t take much longer for Will to come, her name on his lips as he spills into her, his face buried into her hair, as his back spasms and his entire body tenses before relaxing. He tries to roll onto his side but Mac holds him in place, his head resting on her chest as she rubs his back, her other hand combing through his hair, both still out of breath. 

Mac is all too aware of her eyes fluttering closed, can feel Will’s breathing deepening slightly. And while sex on the sofa turned out to be just as romantic and just as great as sex in a bed, she really doesn’t want to fall asleep here. 

“Will?”

“Hmm.”

“We need to get up.”

Will nuzzles his face between her breasts, nips lightly at the smooth skin before tugging gently at one of her nipples. 

“No, we don’t,” he pouts. 

Mac laughs, gently pats his shoulder. 

“Come on,” she says. “Let’s go to bed.” 

He lifts his head, kisses her jaw, her chin, the corner of her mouth. 

“Bed sounds good.”

Will is already under the duvet when MacKenzie gets out the bathroom but she’s pleased to see that he doesn’t seem to have put any clothes on. She climbs into bed beside him, doesn’t fail to notice the way they’ve both kept the same side of the bed after all this time. Rests her head on his chest as she cuddles into his side. 

Mac can feel her eyes sliding closed once more, especially when Will starts to gently tug at the ends of her hair, something she has always found highly relaxing. But before she can let herself succumb to sleep, there’s something she needs to know. 

“Can I ask you something?” She murmurs, tilting her head so she can meet Will’s eyes from where her head rests on his chest. It’s an awkward angle but she’s warm and comfy and she’d rather not leave his arms if she can help it. 

Will’s fingers still and he splays his hand against her back, fingers softly tracing the curve of her waist, as he looks down at her best he can, brow slightly furrowed. 

“Anything.”

Now she does lift her head, shuffles up the mattress until they are face to face on his pillow, noses almost touching. 

“Nina Howard. Really?”

Will rolls onto his back, a sheepish look on his face. “I was trying to convince myself I was over you,” he defends. 

“Yeah? How did that work out for you?” Mac asks with a grin, sitting up slightly so she can see his face. 

“Turns out you’re not very easy to get over,” he teases, a lazy grin on his face as he reaches up to trace his fingers along the pattern of freckles adorning her shoulder. 

“When did you know?” She asks softly, eyes trained on a spot on his chest. “That you weren’t over me, I mean.”

Gently, Will cups her face, tilts her head until she meets his gaze. 

“I think I always knew,” he tells her, voice low and wavering. “I just didn’t want to admit it.”

“I’m glad you did,” Mac says in a shaky voice, eyes brimming with tears. Thinks back to nights spent crying herself to sleep in barracks, certain that she’d screwed up the only good thing in her life and that Will would never forgive her in a million years. 

And here she is, nearly four years later. In his bed, in his heart. And it’s somewhat overwhelming. 

“Hey.” Will pulls her into his arms, one hand combing through her hair while the other rubs soothing circles on her back. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you.”

Mac burrows her face into his chest, wraps one arm tightly around his waist, tangles their legs together. 

“I love you,” she tells him with a kiss to his chest. “Never stopped.”

And the last thing she is aware of as she falls asleep, head pillowed on Will’s chest, his arms wrapped firmly around her, is Will murmuring _love you, Kenzie_ into her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end, for realz 
> 
> thanks for reading!l

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!💕


End file.
